


Waking and Sleeping in the Light

by StrangledAvatar



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Comfort, Guilt, Introspection, Love, M/M, Mythology References, References to past trauma, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 15:33:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19833175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangledAvatar/pseuds/StrangledAvatar
Summary: Week 4: Green (Nature, Growth Envy)Snippets of James, and James and Harry.To fix something, you need to be together.





	Waking and Sleeping in the Light

**Author's Note:**

> My plot bunnies were resurrected by GH_123's 'The Date' and Estelle's 'Highest foe you'll ever grace'. You should definitely read them both. No seriously, Read. Them. Both.
> 
> I've decided to be more optimistic regarding our favourite couple. They are still #JarryStrong. Both need help to fix the issues raised, individually and as a unit (no matter how OOC they were). So I'm just going to believe that the relationship will go on. Dead fires still have embers with hidden flames.

Soft dawn rays surrounded Harry like the aureola of the sun. The early morning glow danced across the planes of his body—dancing like revelers, paying homage to his beauty. Fingers quietly followed the light, tracing words of love and fear. Soft eyes drank in the sight.

In another time, Harry would be worshipped. Helios, the god of light and life. The sun-crowned man who drove his chariots across the sky, providing the world with joy and light. He did not just drive the light, he created it. He was certainly the brightest light in James’ life. Even now, in these darkest hours, somehow Harry still brought James joy.

This was what he wanted: Harry. Nothing else. This beautiful man, sleeping peacefully…ensconced as James’ world. If he could have no other wish than this, he would be happy. Waking up each day to Harry: to the smile that even now played across his lips; to the body that even in sleep reached for James; to the heart that was the beat of his own. Losing Harry would stop his, he thought.

James slowly moved his fingers away (even though they’d always ache for Harry) and carefully rolled onto his back. The ceiling wasn’t nearly as interesting to look at, but it allowed his mind to wander. Daydream of a time, after this one. A time where there was no court case. There was no Sadie. No _Ste_. Or maybe it was before—before the foundation of relationship was rocked by Harry’s lies. Cracks multiplied each time those lips spill more deceptions. Lips which would taste his own and then taste another’s. He could not stop seeing the vile images in his head: Ste and Harry. Disgusting vivid, no doubt because of the memories, there seemed to be no escape. Even closing his eyes did nothing to destroy the imagery. It hurt…it burned.

A gentle hand touched his face. Thumbs smoothed the wrinkles around his eyes, slowly relaxing him. They moved down his face and caressed his beard. James could feel his own lips start to smile. Without opening his eyes, he whispered “Good Morning.”

A drowsy voice hummed even as the hands continued their strokes. James smiled; a sleepy Harry was always more affectionate. Though he never really held himself back from expressing himself physically, there was something soft and vulnerable when he first woke up. He stroked Harry’s back for a few moments—breathing his scent, his presence.

“Good Morning Harry.” Maybe opening his eyes this time would do the trick.

“Mmm, it’s too early James. Go back to sleep.” Harry’s hands moved to his shoulders so he could pull himself onto James. He slowly undulated his body over upwards. His sensuous movements at odds with his sleepy words. In these private moments, it was easier to focus on the here and now. Looking down into those clear eyes, “Is that what you want?” James arched himself upwards and felt his smile turn into a smirk.

Harry mirrored his smirk. His hands moved back up to James’ face, tracing his lips. His eyes were no longer drowsy, and his movements became more focused. He slowly sat up and dragged his fingers down to James’ chest. Looking down at James, he smiled “What do you have in mind?”

Focusing on this moment only, James’ smirk softened as his hand slowly meandered their way up Harry’s thighs. He traced the muscle of the abdomen, mimicking the movement of his tongue on good days. Moving his hands to cup the back of Harry’s head, he paused as he stared into Harry’s gaze. Seeing nothing but need, he slowly pulled Harry’s head down. “Oh, I think we can come up with something,” James whispered before capturing Harry’s lips.

Harry relaxed into the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away slightly. He slid his hands under James’s shirt. “Mr. Nightingale,” Harry breathed into his lips, “I’m all yours.”

~~~

The case was not coming together any more today than it had yesterday. No matter how many different ways James looked at it, he couldn’t see it: the angle. There was always an angle to use. It should be easy. Even Sami was confident in James’ defense. James would admit being praised by Sami was still odd. James was not confident, however. Never before had he had such trouble. He could always find the angle for the win; but for whatever reason, he couldn’t find it.

_It’s because you drugged Harry and cost him his alibi_.

James clenched his fists and closed his eyes. He couldn’t tell if the thought sounded more like his mother or Mac. Bringing his fists up to his forehead did nothing to stop the feelings of shame and guilt. He’d been so sure that Harry was going to meet Ste. It wasn’t even a question. It was a fact. Now, he wondered why? Why could he not banish the images from his mind? Why could he not just trust Harry? Was he really turning into his father? A controlling monster who had to force people to stay in his life. Who only managed to hang onto people through manipulations or abuse. _Neeta_. What she must have gone through. Was he doing the same to Harry?

James shuddered. He quickly stood up and strode to the window. Looking out he could see people mingling, rushing to and fro. Looking at the sky, he saw a clear day. The skies were blue and clear, how utterly annoying. James wanted grey skies and rainstorms; the outside world should match his inner torment. But the sun stubbornly shone. The birds still sang, and the trees were abloom. Nature seemed to be enjoying the day. Everything was so green and fresh.

His life had been like that. For a brief moment. When Harry came back in January, he promised it was for James. _“You’re all I want.”_ Those words were a balm, a soothing vow that James kept close to his heart. Choosing Romeo over Harry was the hardest decision of his life. Choosing duty over love. How ironic. He’d mocked Harry before the wedding for doing the same thing. He hadn’t understood why Harry would do it or how it didn’t seem to hurt. How wrong he’d been. Pushing Harry away was one of the most singularly painful moments.

He had no regrets, however. His son, his relationship with Romeo was a crowning achievement. He’d no sooner give that up than give up Harry. Each were important to him. Different, but vital. Romeo was the one who pointed that out. Having a relationship with him did not mean sacrificing the one with Harry. So he’d fought for Harry. Swallowing his pride and making a public spectacle of himself was no small price to pay. Again, he had no regrets. Harry reaching out for him. Harry kissing him. James felt his lips stretch into the same broad smile from that day. How he wished for that time again. It was strange to be envious of himself. Who wouldn’t be though? It really was the perfect love-story moment.

But like any true story, life continues after the fairytale ending.

James sighed and turned back toward his work. Looking blankly at the table, he wondered where it all went wrong. Harry’d warned him, _“Don’t mess this up.”_ But somehow, he had. Somewhere along the way, the fairytale became more of a Grimm’s story. When? When had it all gone sideways?

The trial? Harry was so supportive. Willing to stay on the sidelines for his vendetta. James could see how his obsession with his father, pushed Harry away. He focused so completely on the man he hated, that he ignored the one he loved. Working all hours; leaving Harry alone while going out for business, he’d all but abandoned him. Still Harry stayed. In the background, in the darkness with him. Harry fought for him.

The poisoning? James closed his eyes and took a slow deep breathe. Even now the thought of his father wanting him dead hurt. He’d been so confident and happy that morning. Confident, because he was finally going to have his revenge on Mac. Though he would never be able to get back the years lost to pain and shame, he’d make sure Mac suffered for years to come. It was a glorious feeling. He was finally going to defeat the beast. He’d been happy because Harry had said James made him the happiest he’d ever been. So many times, James had tried to make Harry happy and failed—begged for a chance and been denied. He’d always come second best. For Harry to categorically state that simply being with James was the only thing he needed? It was a heady feeling. James felt himself smile at the memory (though Harry always made him smile).

The pain he’d felt, and the fear was overwhelming. He’d tried to call for help but was unable to; honestly, he wasn’t sure anyone would even try to help him. He remembered being confused because this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Falling on that bench, the world darkening around him, James was afraid. He did not want to die, especially not alone. He still could hear his thought from that moment: _You make me happy—you always do._

The _“I love you_ ” had been a continuation of that thought. Barely whispered and holding onto Harry, he managed to get the words out. Harry’s smile and hug were all he saw and felt for a lifetime in that moment. Later Harry vowed again that he loved James. That all he wanted was to be with him and help him. His arms surrounding James had provided the strength that James had lacked. Crying for a man, he both loved and hated, James had never felt more safe.

_Where did it all go wrong?_

“Fancy a stroll?”

James jerked and opened his eyes. He’d not even noticed when Harry came into the room. “Wha?” He cleared his throat and tried again, “What?”

Harry furrowed his brow and peered closer at James. In that moment, James was reminded of Harry’s innate emotional intelligence. He’d been one of the few people who always seen through James. His eyes, as soft as they were blue, could focus with a laser precision when prompted. James always felt naked when Harry would look at him like that. As if his inner most secrets were available for Harry’s viewing pleasure. Harry must have seen something, because he nodded his head and came closer.

“I asked if you wanted to take a stroll with me.” Harry put his hand behind his back and bowed his body forward just the slightest bit. He leaned in closer to James. James felt himself instinctively leaning in in return. Harry looked up through his lashes and smiled ( _smirked_ really). James bit his tongue and smiled. This blatantly obvious tactic was devastating effective. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad.

Still, it wouldn’t be good to seem too acquiescent. “I have a lot of work on the court case.”

Harry signed and straightened up. He looked at the floor. His smile was smaller now, more forced. “Please James. I just want to spend time with you.”

The soft words reminded James of Mac’s trial; nights when Harry would ask him to eat with him, to come to bed with him, to spend any time with him. The tone held the same loving resignation—as if Harry knew he would be rejected but had to try. Thinking about the voicemail and Harry’s words, James wondered if this wasn’t the answer to his question. This was where it started to go wrong: Harry expecting a place in the background, in the shadows. His happiest place was with James. Yet James kept pushing him away.

James felt himself begin to tear up. He didn’t think he’d be able to speak so he nodded. He leaned forward again and wrapped his arms around Harry. Feeling Harry bury his face in James’ neck, he smiled.

~~~

It’s the little things that matter most; though, it was easier to remember the big moments. James would never forget the way Harry looked at him, searchingly, tenderly, before leaning in on that winter’s evening. He still ached when he thought how Harry pushed him down onto the sofa, mindful of James’ bruises from prison. _“I love you too”_ still made his heart skip a beat, if only because he’d never thought he’d hear it. So many life-changing experiences, he wouldn’t give them up for the world. But, dramatic moments are the things made for movie scripts and romance novels—life happened in the small details.

The way Harry’s fingers brushed against his as they walked. How he wanted to reach out and crook his fingers around them. His hands could almost feel the warmth that Harry exuded. James flexed his fingers and for a moment dared to almost reach out. There was a time when he wouldn’t have hesitated. Partly to stake his claim, but mostly just because he could. Now though, fearing he would burn from getting to close to Harry’s light, James dropped his hand and walked a little faster. He thought to make a quip about quaintness of the village when Harry grabbed his hand, pulling him up short.

James focused on the hand around his own. Warm, always warm. Calloused from his time at the gym, they were nevertheless soft in his grasp. Harry’s hand would curl around his own. Sometimes just a couple of fingers…sometimes the whole hand. There used to be a matter-of-fact belonging about the hand holding is; as if, Harry knew it were his right. Now, the hand clutched his with a desperation that reminded James of times long since gone: prison hugs, stolen chats, and goodbye kisses. The hands pulled him, both out of his thoughts and toward the fountain.

Hoping to lighten the suddenly somber mood, James joked “Fancy a dip? Or do you have a coin to toss in for good luck?”

Harry didn’t respond. His hands travelled up to grab James’ lapel. Usually James liked when Harry did that—a precursor to more exhilarating activities. But Harry’s grip felt different. He wasn’t pulling James down for a kiss or using it to pull himself up for the same. It was as if he were holding on for dear life. The same desperation bled through the warmth. James looked into the teary eyes searching his for the answer. Was it the court case? He smiled, trying to prompt Harry to speak first, but he remained disturbing silent.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Looking around for anything that could have upset the delicate balance between them.

“This is the place.” Harry’s eyes moved away from him and toward the bench, though something on his face told James he was seeing something else. “This is the place” he repeated.

His smile slipping a little, James probed “Place? I don’t understand.” Again trying to shift the mood, he quipped, “I know we’ve had our fair share of dalliances in unconventional places; but I don’t remember this being one of them. Although, I could be persuad—.”

“This is where we found you.” His statement startled James into grabbing Harry’s upper arms. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull him closer or push him away. Before he could decide, Harry used his grip to pull James closer—as if trying to climb inside his body (he was already in his heart). “This is the spot that Marnie and I found you.

James looked toward the bench and tried not to remember the pain and fear. He could feel the same tightening of his chest happening again. He quickly refocused on Harry…anything to stay in the present.

Harry continued to gaze at the bench. “Cindy was freaking out about your being late. So Marnie and I came to look for you. I thought maybe you were waiting to have your dramatic entrance or maybe you’d gotten lost in prepping again. Marnie was mostly annoyed. She knew that nothing would stop you. She wasn’t worried. Neither was I, not really.” His fingers tightened even more, the white of his knuckles appearing. “I keep thinking that I should have known something was wrong. I should’ve felt it. I love you so much…I should have been able to tell. But I didn’t.”

“Har—.”

“I was calling your mobile, when we found you. You were just there.” Harry pulled James closer to the bench. “Just here. Not moving.” Harry’s fingers tightened again. “Everything just went hot and then cold for a moment. I thought I might pass out. I wanted to reach out and touch you. I wanted to hold you, to feel you against me again. But Marnie was there. Her face, James you should have seen it. She was calling your name. I could see her fear. So I couldn’t show mine. I had to be strong. I don’t even remember what I said to the operator. I’m just glad I could talk at all.”

Biting his lip and James closed his eyes.

“All I could think about was that we didn’t have enough time. Waiting for you in the hospital, I just kept remember all the time I wasted. Trying to be someone I wasn’t…to my dad, to make up for…well, you know. I thought about how much time I wasted holding onto Ste. What you and I have is more much more. I…so many things had kept us apart. I was terrified that you wouldn’t make it. That we wouldn’t have our life. I want that so much. I want you so much. I love you. I..” Harry pulled James down into a kiss. He could taste the tears. James moved his hands up to cradle his face. _How I love to hold your face_. About to repeat the thought aloud, James pulled away from the kiss.

Harry whispered against his lips, “The first thing you said was that you loved me. You almost died. And that was the first thing you said. You wanted me to know that I was the one you loved.”

James moved his head back, “Love. You are still the one I love.” Opening his, James tried to catch Harry’s eye.

“I hate and love this place now. Remembering how we found you here still makes me gag sometimes. I never want to go through that again…almost losing you. But when you work up, I was all you wanted—all you loved. That made me happy. It still makes me happy. You do that. You make me happy. The thing is, I used to do that for you.” Harry pulled away from James completely. “Now I don’t.”

James reached out for Harry. “You do. You make me happy. Whe.Where is this coming from?” He tried to pull Harry closer. James’ eyes searched Harry’s face, “Harry?”

Harry blinked his eyes and looked down before answering, “You’re always so stressed. I know the court case is…I mean, I know it’s hard. I know you focused on trying to win it. But it’s more than that…You’re so high-strung all the time. I can never tell if you want me or—”

“I want you. Harry, I always want you.”

“You want me to be with you but not close to you. It’s like I’m supposed to be here but stay out of your way at the same time. You’re so focused on the trial part of this case…not the part about me. I..” Harry cut himself off. He smiled sadly. “I just miss you, is all.”

So many thoughts ran through James’ mind. _I’m focused because I did this to you. I can’t lose you. You’re everything to me._ His thoughts jumbled, he found himself unable to speak. James cradled Harry’s head again. He gentle moved his head upwards, turning his own and bending a little to try and meet his eyes. He tried to smile but he could feel it slip. Shaking his head faintly, he bent even further to pull Harry into his arms. Maybe if he held on hard enough, he’d could go back to before. Before he’d made that horrible mistake with the drug. Before he questioned everything Harry did (no matter how hard he tried). Before, to the wonderful bubble of joy and light, he shared with this beautiful man—the one he loved so dearly.

“I just don’t want to lose you James. And I’m not just talking about the trial…sometimes it feels like I am.” Harry pushed his face closer to James’ ear. “I love you so much. I’m still happiest when I with you.”

James closed his eyes. So many things he wanted to say. A lawyer with a silver tongue, who couldn’t find the words. _I need to fix this_. James hugged Harry closer.

~~~

Harry slept peacefully beside him. The god having finished his chariot ride across the sky could now rest. James smirked, Harry would either blush or laugh at being compared to deities of old. Though there was no true comparison. Harry would have outshined them all. Though lately, his light was dimmed. Because of the trial, the Sadie…because of James.

He moved closer to him. Fingers ached to trace his skin again. James whispered all the things he could never admit. “I love you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I do you. It frightens me. If I lost you, I’d go mad…maybe I am already. You are everything to me. You turned my flat into a home. This unconventional group of misfits, you turned into a family. I’m terrified of being alone. But I’m more terrified of forcing you to stay. I can’t be like Mac. I just can’t…neither can I let you go. I don’t know what to do. I messed up so badly..I…I’m trying to fix it, but I can’t. I don’t know how.”

He rolled over and reached for the bedside table. Picking up his phone, he pulled his up voicemail. Looking at the entry saved for months; the one he still played, he sadly smiled. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you also.”

_Tomorrow_. Tomorrow, he’d spend the whole day with Harry. No interruptions. No excuses. He’d make sure that Harry knew that he was happiest with him too.


End file.
